Sunday Poem By Amanita Sen

The vision

It was a frank golden sunlight
marching inside the room
the day after the night
father passed away.

Not a tinge of any other
colour marked the hue,
so spotless were the lights
so generously giving.

All partings since then
carry for me the brightness
of the sun, the fearlessness
of daylight, the trust

that farewells do not impede
vision; like the impeccability of
the leaf after a shower,perhaps
the vision will enhance
after the spell of grief.

The vision that help us
see within .

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